


everything stays, but it still changes

by TheGodWith5Yen



Series: cross my heart and hope to die, with a big old piece of american pie [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: Bonding, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Family, Gay Bucky Barnes, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Memories, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Original Character(s), POV Bucky Barnes, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 14:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14771576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGodWith5Yen/pseuds/TheGodWith5Yen
Summary: Oddly enough, Bucky spotted the dinosaur before the ragtag group of children (teenagers).The thing fucking squawked at him like a damn crow, anxiously pacing around, making to move in a certain direction before jumping on its feet yet again. Bucky squinted at it, slowly walking over to the creature, which kept trying to run somewhere, but stopped as though something was holding it back. When Bucky was close enough, a light illuminated in a nearby puddled, lighting up they small part of the alleyway the creature was occupying. He could swear it had tears in its eyes. He followed its line of sight, moving only when it nudged its heavy head against his back, urging him to move, making small, almost whining, noises. Curious on what could get this somehow alive dinosaur so riled up, Bucky walked forward, silently, in case there was something dangerous, which, really, it had to be there was a fucking dinosaur involved.Seeing a pair of cops pointing their guns at a group of six teenagers, four young girls and two young boys, kids, children, young and obviously scared he saw red.(Alternatively- Did Bucky Adopt the Runaways or Did They Adopt Him?)





	everything stays, but it still changes

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this fic is so incredibly self indulgent, and much longer than what I thought it would be, and wow do I love it!! Hope you all enjoy <3
> 
> Title is from Rebecca Sugar's Everything Stays (from Adventure Time).

The breeze from the little electric fan was cool, nice against Bucky’s overheated skin. His prosthetic arm was hot to the touch, it had Bucky darkly reminiscing about white snow and the burning cold of a cryo pod. He was still getting used to the heat- something he didn’t have to worry about for such a long time. It brought back memories of hot days back in Brooklyn, sweat rolling down his back, shared ice cream between him and Steve, his little sisters fighting for piggyback rides when he and Steve took them to the zoo with them. 

His lips curled into a small smile, remembering his sisters faces. He missed them. A lot. Tears pricked at the sides of his eyes, and for once he let them fall, mourning the time he lost to be with them. At this point, he didn’t know if he wanted to see his sister's- much older than him, with families, and so many memories without him in them. He was just a relic of the past, a figure standing in a picture frame, and he should stay that way for the remaining  Barnes family. 

He looked them up, once. His three sisters were alive (that was Barnes genes alright, strong and hardy and stubborn), they had kids, who had kids who were now having their own kids. He knew they heard about him being alive- the whole damned world heard about fallen war hero James “Bucky” Barnes turned POW weapon Winter Soldier. They had sent out a statement about the whole situation, stating that they hoped Bucky was alright, he should be treated as a tortured victim he was (therefore exonerated for any crimes), and that no, they had no idea where the man was, they had never seen him, no Barnes had seen him since he had deployed back in 1942. 

Tears dripped down onto his neck, making it wet and uncomfortable. It was the first time he let himself cry- he shouldn’t, he’s losing fluids on a hot day, when a person cannot afford to lose any. Maybe he deserved it, though. A quiet few minutes of letting it all out, his mourning of lost time, his mixed feelings on being alive, still, when he should have died after the train, he should have died by that fall. He knew Steve was happy he was alive, to have someone who  _ knows _ , but it just filled Bucky with so much dread, this- everything. Maybe it was because he was different than Steve, that self-sacrificing punk, who willingly went through the motions. Bucky should have died. Then, he didn’t and he was forced to hurt and be hurt and not be himself until he was warped into this new, wounded man, from the inside and out. 

This new form, made of warped glass and metal, a fragile creation, was not what Bucky Barnes once was. Would they recognize him, when he could barely recognize himself? Some days he glanced into a reflection, expecting to see slicked back hair, a cocky smile ready to spout out anything from charming to fighting words. Someone who was whole, who had a whole life to live, who had family, and a dear friend. Except he saw what was left- and he didn’t know how to cope with that, so he was moving along, at his own pace, unsure, and alone for what felt like the first time. 

 

Oddly enough, Bucky spotted the dinosaur before the ragtag group of children (teenagers). 

Logically, Bucky knew this wasn’t his first time in California, as the Soldier he had been to the state a few times for a short period of time. When he was younger he had no desire to visit the state, he loved Brooklyn, it was his entire life. After Morita had talked about home, Bucky and the rest of the boys had promised to visit him- actually they promised to keep in touch with each other for as long as time let them. They had grown close in their time together, the Howling Commandos. Bucky had never been one to discriminate, he was a man who favored fellas over dames any day of the week, not to mention his mother had the blood of a Mexican running through her veins, which had, of course, been passed down to Bucky and his sisters. Luckily for them, the Barnes were just slightly tanned, like they spent a good amount in the sun (as they did) and their parents both looked about as white as any other families parents. Sometimes, when Bucky had heard stories, he felt a pride in his mother, for being who she was and surviving, even if it meant she had to hide half of herself, he saw no shame in hiding if that was what helped her survive the violence of others. That’s why he felt no shame in having to hide a large part of who he was.  

Winifred often said she missed California, what little she had remembered from it. Still, Bucky hadn’t wanted to go, not with all the hate that had been fostered there, not until he made the promise to see Morita there, in Fresno, California. 

It took some digging, not much really, to find where Private James Morita was buried. Bucky had walked through lines of marked graves, some with simple headstones, others extravagant with large angels watching over them, staring blankly at Bucky as he walked past them. Maybe it was the leftover craze from HYDRA conditioning, but Bucky could of swore some of the eyes were accusatory- you should be here too, they seemed to say. He didn’t like looking at them, keeping his eyes averted, glancing down at the names etched into the stone. 

When his eyes found Morita’s, he smiled. The gravestone was simple- the standard name, date of birth and death, a quote about being a wonderful father and husband. His eyes focused on the two pictures, slightly faded and yellow. One was the Morita Bucky had known- young, dashing, a cocky grin on his face. The other was a man Bucky had never had the pleasure to meet- soft smile, gray hair, wrinkles deep in his face. It made Bucky’s breath go short before he turned his head away, staring at the man he knew. 

“Hey, man, finally made it.” His voice was scratchy and hoarse, like it always was whenever he talked nowadays. “Like what ya got here, not all gaudy like some people, had like ten angel statues staring daggers at me, telling me I should be in hell for several reasons. They ain’t wrong, though, huh? You know, I’m glad ya don’t have to see me like this. You had a whole, great life. I- I don’t really know why I’m here to be honest. Was around the state, decided, hey, why not? I told Morita, my old pal, I would see his city one day. Visit him. I bet Steve’s visited you, huh? That must’ve been a shock, might’ve knocked you dead again. Bet he already told ya about me, must be why I felt the pull to come, is that it man?” 

Bucky spent a good time there, crouching low, even when his knees were screeching at him to stop straining his body, cause even with a super body, doing shit you weren't supposed to do hurt like hell when you were doing it for quite a while. Eventually, his mind ran out of words, nothing left for his old friend to hear, so he left, wandering around the city. That’s when he saw the dinosaur. 

He was making his way down an old alley, looking for a soft spot to lay for the night, when he spotted the damn thing. His eyes kind of drifted over it before he froze, realizing exactly what he saw. Now of course Bucky had seen some crazy shit in his day, but an alive dinosaur in the middle of Fresno, the fifth most populated city in California, which was definitely the last place he would expect to see something crazier than a hobo fight or a teen mother guiding her child around by a leashed backpack. 

A dinosaur. 

Bucky blinked a few times, yet it was still there, jumping from foot to foot, as though it was anxious about something. It spotted Bucky, who stared at it, unsure what to do. He had survival skills, he really truly did, but what the fuck? He never thought he would add ‘fought a dinosaur’ to his growing list of shit he’s done in his lifetime. It was weird enough to have ‘technically one hundred years old’ and ‘frozen for most of my life’ already on the list. 

The thing fucking squawked at him like a damn crow, anxiously pacing around, making to move in a certain direction before jumping on its feet yet again. Bucky squinted at it, slowly walking over to the creature, which kept trying to run somewhere, but stopped as though something was holding it back. When Bucky was close enough, a light illuminated in a nearby puddled, lighting up they small part of the alleyway the creature was occupying. He could swear it had tears in its eyes. He followed its line of sight, moving only when it nudged its heavy head against his back, urging him to move, making small, almost whining, noises. Curious on what could get this somehow alive dinosaur so riled up, Bucky walked forward, silently, in case there was something dangerous, which, really, it had to be there was a fucking dinosaur involved. 

Bucky admits, since his mind has cleared up quite a bit, he wasn’t so prone to violence or anger. Sure, he got into fights a lot as a kid, but when he grew older he wasn’t so prone to raising his fist for every matter. However, seeing a pair of cops pointing their guns at a group of six teenagers, four young girls and two young boys, kids, children, young and obviously scared he saw red. That was why Bucky rushed over, not properly assessing the situation he was about to butt his head in, his left arm raised, taking the impact of the first bullet going off. The fucking bullet dropped at his feet with a clang, Bucky glancing over at the two cops- white and a bit overweight, shaking like leaves as though six scared kids could do anything against two grown ass men with weapons meant to kill- a snarl escaping his lips.

“Holy shit!” 

The cops stumbled back, shocked. One reached for their handheld transceiver, yelling for backup and saying “the runaway rich kids and Winter Soldier,” as the other shakily leveled his gun towards them. 

“Go!” Bucky yelled out through his teeth, reaching for his own weapon. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. On one hand, he really wanted to hurt these assholes, on the other hand he did not want to hurt people again, if he did this would only add to whatever case anyone could have against him, especially since Bucky knew if asked, he would not lie, revealing he was in sound mind while fucking up two trigger happy asshole cops. It was a godsend, probably, definitely, that one of the kids grabbed his right hand, somehow pulling him along with them as the group ran in the dark. 

Bucky strained his hearing as they ran, “They aren’t moving. You guys have a spot?”

One of the kids, a blonde girl, pointed ahead towards a white van behind a faded blue dumpster. Wasn’t the most inconspicuous, but had to do. Bucky held his hand out for the keys, the kids sharing a glance, an obvious silent conversation like the ones Bucky would have with Steve. The black kid, with a defiant look in his eyes, reluctantly held out his hand, his keys clutched in his fist. 

“Can we trust you?” He asked, his hand hovering over Bucky’s outstretched palm. 

“Kid, looks to me I’m the only one willing to help.” Bucky responded. His voice didn’t sound as scratchy, must have been all that talking he had done with- to- Morita. The kid sighed, his shoulders drooping slightly, before he tensed back up, released his grip on the car keys, the metal dropping into Bucky’s flesh hand. The kids all climbed into the back, Bucky already starting the van, waiting for them to slam the doors shut before he took off. At a stoplight, Bucky quickly took off his backpack, throwing an old, tattered green jacket over himself and tying his hair up in a messy bun. “Do I look like a tired transporter without enough pay?” He asked, not turning his head, keeping his eyes on the road, carefully driving like he knew these streets. Or actually knew how to properly drive. 

“Deadass,” one of the girls said, her voice gravelly, a hint of a held back laugh. 

They spent a while driving down main roads. The kids were quiet for a good half hour, until at some point they decided to whisper-argue over what the hell to do with Bucky- or their badass saviour, as one of them dubbed him. Not wanting to intervene any more than he had, he tuned out, letting them have their privacy as he watched what he drove past.

“If you guys want, I can get a motel room for the night so you all can figure out your game plan. If you don’t mind me being there as well.” Bucky could hear them once again shifting close together, whispering, before the kid who had given him the keys earlier said, sounding a little reluctant, “Okay, yeah, sure.”

 

Bucky stopped at a motel, one that sat right next to a freeway. The sounds of cars passing by was calming, giving Bucky a second to stop and let out a breath. What had he gotten himself into? A rustle sounded from a bush, Bucky could feel his whole face scrunching into a scowl, only to relax slightly when he saw it was the dinosaur. Okay, he really needed to ask what that was about. These kids were trouble, of some form, if the cops were so inclined to raise a gun on them. Bucky did not need any more heat on him. Then again, these kids did have a few minorities among them and Bucky knew what happens to people viewed as different when the superior white man feels a certain duty to accomplish.

The man at the motel’s check in desk looked as exhausted as Bucky felt, dark circles under his eyes, mindlessly staring in front of him, chin held in his hand, only perking up and pretending not to feel absolutely dead inside when Bucky strolled in. That was such a Goddamned mood Bucky couldn’t help the small smirk that played on his lips as he paid for a room with two beds, paying cash. 

The kids followed Bucky along to the room like little ducklings, each clutching a pillow or blanket in their arms. The dinosaur trotted along behind them, its sharp nails clicking against the concrete. Bucky hoped no person would look outside to see some crappy looking guy with a bunch of teenagers and a dinosaur- that would definitely warrant an unwanted call to the police. He ushered the kids (and the dinosaur) inside first, the dinosaur lightly hitting its tail against his knees. Maybe if he was a normal person that would make him buckle back a step or two; it just made him squint his eyes at the creature and watch as it curled up in a ball next to the air conditioner, which sat, large and bulky, underneath the window, partly hidden behind ugly brown curtains. 

“This is weird as shit.” The white boy muttered, sitting stock straight on one of the beds, staring at Bucky as he grabbed a plastic cup to fill with the faucets water. “Like, who even are you?”

As Bucky drank the water, he considered how to answer the kid. He could tell the truth, though he doubted they wanted to hear that the guy who kind of saved their lives and kind of kidnapped them (kind of, they could leave) was an assassin from a fallen Nazi organization. He set the cup down next to the sink. “Just a man. A man tired of violence.” 

“Aren’t we all.” One of the girls snorted. She had settled in the corner with the dinosaur, petting it like a dog. Okay, what was with that damn thing? He knew this was the twenty-first century and they had many new… things, but that did not explain how they had a dinosaur. 

Bucky smirked- those words reminded him of Stevie, back when he was ready to fight for anything and anyone who deserved it.  _ Why do you have to keep at it, _ Bucky would ask when he would pick his friend up off the ground.  _ Until everyone has rights and is understood and treated fairly, aren’t we all deserving, aren’t you tired of all the shit,  _ Steve would answer, eyes piercing and angry. He was tired of bullies, of assholes, of all the violence that they created. Bucky had lived with it, hid from it best he could, until he couldn’t, until now, when it had grown too much and the world seemed much too bleak. With a sigh, he turned on the television. 

The news was playing, a woman with straight brown hair and a man with slicked black hair on screen. The man was talking, mid sentence, “- seen with the notorious Sergeant James Barnes here in Fresno. Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier, is wanted in several countries for crimes done in association with the nazi idealist group HYDRA. However, he has several advocates, from his remaining family members, and Captain America, claiming he has been brainwashed by the group. Regardless, try to stay clear of him and report any sightings of Barnes or the runaway group of teenagers.” The screen showed all their pictures- they were showing one of his older pictures, thank the lord, back from the war, with his hair slicked and a cocky, charming smile on his face. 

“You’re a fucking nazi? What the fuck?” The asian girl- Nico, the screen said- hissed, staring at him incredulously as her friends tensed up, lips tights, looking ready to burst out of the room. Even the dinosaur was looking at him warily. 

“I’m not- they- I was fucking brainwashed. That’s what HYDRA does- did. Manipulate and twist. Make- I forgot who I was. For nearly eighty years, I was their puppet.” Bucky licked his lips, his eyes trained on his feet. “You heard what happened in DC? I was a part of that, it’s when the programing started to fail. Now, I’m… I’m not quite back. I don’t think I can be who I was, not after…” Bucky trailed off, realising he talked more than he had wanted. It was like at Morita’s grave- he just spoke. It had to be from being so isolated for so long, not able to tell someone, Steve, Becca, his Ma, about all the whirling emotions in his mind and chest. He raised his head, making eye contact with the white kid.“What about you guys? What’s your story?”

 

Alex was the first to introduce himself. He had reached out his hand and gave Bucky a handshake- firm and quick. He was a black kid, with hair in that new style that Bucky genuinely did not know was in style or was something only cool young kids had. He had twitchy, nervous hands that moved when he talked, not always a gesture, sometimes to scratch at his knee, his face, or the back of his head. He had smart, calculating eyes- if Bucky didn’t know any better about strong-minded stubborn young woman he would think Alex was the one calling the shots. 

Nico had long black hair. Nearly everything about her was black, actually, from her chipped fingernails to her blocky shoes to her eyeliner. Her voice was low, a nice raspy quality to it that reminded him of an old friend he used to go on dates with (her name was Emma, a sweet girl with bright blue eyes and nearly always on hand with red lipstick and bandaids, she had a girlfriend named Kitty who wrote mystery novels for fun, Bucky had read a few and enjoyed them, he wondered if they were ever published). She seemed (rightfully) suspicious of Bucky, and was watching him from her perch on the bed furthest from him.

Karolina had seemed as wary of him as the rest, but had given him a warm smile and handshake before retreating back to Nico’s side. She seemed to be bored of the minimal conversation, opting to do some stretches in the middle of the room, in front of the television that was still stuck on the news, curiously looking up at what was happening in the San Joaquin Valley, besides them, important enough to be reported on. When she grew bored, she struck up a game with Nico. Whenever she walked past Bucky for the bathroom or a cup of water, she smelled of a combination of sweat and vanilla. 

Chase sat next to Bucky at some point. He gave him a small, tight smile. He was a handsome kid, reminding Bucky a tad bit of himself when he was younger and hiding behind his smirk. His light brown hair had trails where he would push it back off his forehead. Words seemed to be stuck in his throat; every time he turned, opened his mouth to speak, he took in a deep breath, scowling, more to himself than towards Bucky, and went back to staring at the television. Eventually, he got up to lie on the recliner, his bare foot reaching over to absently pat the dinosaur’s head. 

The dinosaur was Old Lace. She was big, had too many teeth for Bucky’s liking, and oddly reminded him of an old dog that him and Becca had liberated from the back of a bakery where the owners greasy son would beat it for fun. The dog had become a bodyguard of sorts, even when they couldn’t always find scraps to feed her. God, what was her name? Minnie! They had named her after the little mouse, since Becca had really liked- what was it- Paper Planes! She had liked it, when him and Steve had saved up enough money for the three of the to go to the theater and watch, they had felt bad for not giving it to their parents, money was tight they all knew it, but they wanted to see it so damn bad, they never told their parents about it. Had Becca ever told their Ma, while reminiscing, spilling the beans on the movie they saw? Their mam might have already knew with how much Becca had loved God damned Mickey and Minnie Mouse. Anyways, Minnie had been a good dog, really good, she would sleep in the room Bucky had shared with his sisters, curling up in bed once in a while, his little sister Betty would rest nearly her whole little body on her. The dog had been so protective and loving. Becca and Betty had cried themselves to sleep when she had been killed by a car; it was Becca’s fault, she had cried to Bucky, the dog had pushed her back when the car had drove by. God, all this from one dinosaur? It was tiring, seeing these kids and remembering so much; himself, his sisters, his friends. 

Gert had purple hair. He had spent a few minutes looking at her hair- the roots were black, her hair falling below her shoulders, scraping the tops whenever she tilted her head to the side. When a news story about a shooting came on screen, she had seethed and went on a rant, mostly to Old Lace, about gun restrictions and safety, talking about school shootings, how children had as much of a right to speak out about injustice as adults, many of whom she called cowardly, boneless swine who would never bring change. The speech reminded him of Steve, because of course it would. Steve would love to have a conversation with a girl like Gert, would probably vote for her when she ran for office one day. 

Molly was the true child of the group, she was younger than the others by a few years. She clutched a pink stuffed toy to her chest while she napped. She complained about the news station after a while, after Karolina’s stretches and Gert’s political rant, and changed the station, finally settling on one where cartoons were playing, mildly watching before she took another short nap. He knew she was the one who had grabbed him earlier, had made him run away with them. Why? Why had she helped him? She had long curly hair that was like his mothers, and a sense of humor like Becca and Betty. Bucky couldn’t look at her long without memories of his sisters coming up, more than just secret movie outings and a dirty old dog in their room, it was everything, it was them, and he could not deal with any shit right now, so he closed his eyes, listening to the goofy voices of the cartoon dog-cat hybrid. 

 

Bucky was a washed up, brainwashed, one hundred year old man. His appearance had seen better decades, and he was not quite as charming or sociable as he once was. Whenever he had a thought, it escalated, a memory poking out from where it was hidden before. It shook him to his core each time, and it was only years of never being able to show true emotion that he was able to hide it. He had no clue where he was going next, no clue what he wanted. He stayed, sitting against the wall, even when the group of teenagers, the runaways, had decided to fall asleep, the girls piling on one bed, leaving the second for the two boys. Old Lace had deemed him good, apparently, since she was now resting her heavy head on his legs, Bucky’s flesh hand absently petting her as he failed to catch a wink of sleep.

 

Somehow, Bucky had ended up driving a bare faced Nico, dressed in a bright yellow tank top and loose jeans, and an enthusiastic Chase, dressed in one of Bucky’s green jackets which hung loose on his shoulders with the sleeves past his hands and a tight black shirt that must have been the formers, to Costco. It wasn’t far from the motel they were staying at, which the kids had learned when getting up early for the complimentary breakfast, sneaking it in their room to feast. Bucky had been thinking about leaving them after he checked out, when Chase had asked him to drive them and to help them buy some supplies. He had declined Bucky’s offer of his own money to pay, saying they had their own cash. 

While the teenagers wandered around the store, Bucky bought some clothes for himself and what looked like could fit the kids as well. After putting the clothes in the van, he found Nico and Chase near the back of the store, Chase with a food sample in his hands while Nico stuffed a few packages of pads in the cart. Bucky surveyed the items, most of it non perishable food, wet wipes, and vitamins. 

“I bought some clothes. It’s in the car.” Bucky mumbled as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, wondering how much money all this shit would amount to and how much cash they had. They didn’t seem worried about the outcome, must have quite a bit to them. 

“You didn’t have to do that man,” Chase said, half a ravioli in his mouth, hazel eyes wide. Buck only shrugged at him, walking away towards the large section full of books. “We’re almost done, um.” the young man said, following him along with the cart as Nico went for medical supplies, cooly glancing over her shoulder and waving him off.

Chase picked up a large book and showed it to him, his hand lightly touching Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky snorted at the cover- a book about world war two, with a cover that looked like old newspapers with several headlines ranging from the Rise of Hitler to Steve Rogers USO Tour to Women Entering the Workforce. The kid put it in the cart, along with a few other books. Once Nico came back with Mickey Mouse band aids, bandages, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, the two teens went to pay. While they were stuck in line, Bucky bought three pepperoni pizzas, since it was coming up to lunch. Kids deserved to be treated sometimes, even if they were runaways hiding from the law. When they successfully strolled away from the store and safely had all their items in the van, the two teens pounded their fists together, smiling. 

“Thanks for the pizza,” Nico said from the back, one of the warm boxes resting on her thighs. “You really didn’t have to though. Do… any of what you have already.” 

It was true, Bucky didn’t have to do shit for them. He didn’t have to save them, use any of his money for them, help them shop, or drive them. The thing was- he wanted to. This was the first want he could act on, because the others were wants that felt too unattainable, too real, too full of responsibility and hurt. He was hiding from his other wants, but this, helping these kids who reminded him of what home once was, he could actually do something for once. Bucky felt his lip twitch up. “I was once a good man.”

“So this is your repentance?” Nico asked, her fingers drumming on the pizza box.

Bucky tilted his head to the side. “No, that would be me facing trial. I’m still running. But, this is… I don’t know. It’s the first time I feel like I’m back to being Bucky Barnes and not some in between. I don’t know.” 

Nico hummed back at him, and he could hear the smile that came with it. 

 

Somehow, it made sense that Bucky stayed with the runaways. He hadn’t planned to, but when Molly, Chase, and Nico came running up to him as he was walking away, bag in tow with a new jacket from the store since Chase hadn’t taken his off. It was one of those moments that went by fast, so he couldn’t remember all that was said, most of it insignificant. What he could remember was: “You’re a runaway too. In between it all, good and bad, trying to find who you are. You said it yourself, so- so stay with us. For however long you want. You can’t grow and progress and figure shit out if you’re all alone. Your thoughts are your worst enemy when the world abandons you, when all you have is yourself, I know that! So, if you want, stay.” 

So he did. 

 

When Steve led the Commandos, sometimes Bucky and him would sit in a car they had required, Bucky resting his head on Steve’s newly large shoulder. It was odd, usually they were reversed, with Stevie laying on him, being the smaller one. He had been still adjusting to his best friends new body- sometimes, despite the best of him, he expected to see his small body, lost in a crowd during a fight or when his voice pulled him away from a particularly good sleep. Steve had told him how some days he woke up, forgetting just how much bigger his body was, expecting to be that little skinny kid when he looked into his reflection.

“Hey, is this considered our first road trip?” Steve had asked, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. Bucky had reached over and taken it from him. It wasn’t one of Dugan’s beloved cigars that Bucky liked, but still good enough. 

“Huh, guess this is.” Bucky had barked out a laugh. “Never saw us both crossing a damn ocean to finally have that vacation we always talked about.”

 

Sometimes being stuck in a van full of six teenagers and their pesky dinosaur was exhausting. They would get into petty fights and realize at inopportune times that they had to take a piss. Most times Bucky drove, which gave him free reign of the radio, which usually meant letting them play The Beatles and Frank Sinatra, both of whom Bucky expressed he couldn’t believe he had missed. Chase often sat up in the front seat with him, showing him his Fistigons, which were badass. The kid would happily discuss what he was doing when Bucky asked, plans he had for them, smiling wide whenever Bucky would ask him questions, ignoring the others groans at his ‘nerd stuff.’

If it wasn’t Chase up front, it was Gert or Molly. Gert would either sit quietly, reading until she got dizzy, or would ask him questions. It was never anything personal, no one asked him anything personal since it made him tense up, his mouth turn into a frown (as Molly had said “we cannot make anyone in our squad sad,  _ guys _ , not unless we all agree on bad feelings talk beforehand, please”). They talked about little things, mostly. She would lend him her books for when he wasn’t driving or when they made stops. Molly liked to sing along to cheesy, electronic pop songs, most of which grated at his ears, but he tolerated it. There was a great possibility some of the songs grew on him. Like, that banana song? That was good. 

Alex was driving, Molly painting Bucky’s nails, trying not to mess up as the van went over bumps. Karolina was painting her toenails, when she grinned and said, “Hey, this is, like, our first family road trip! We were never all together like this- usually it was, like, only three or four of us, or not in the same car.” 

“It is! Oh my god, remember when we went to San Francisco?” Molly grinned, only to grimance a second later when a bit of the pink paint spread onto Bucky’s finger. “I never wanted to leave!”

“My favorite was when we went to Monterey.” Alex said, a sigh escaping his lips. “The aquarium was hella cool. I had begged my mom to take me back soon after we left.”

“Remember how scared Molly got when we went to the deep ocean tank?” Karolina laughed, shaking her head, resting it on Nico’s shoulders. She looked at Bucky from the corner of her eyes, but looked away quickly, her hand playing with the little metal bracelet she always wore on her wrist. 

“Hey! I was a kid!” Molly defended herself, briefly glancing away from Bucky’s right hand to scowl at her friend. She let go of his hand, finally finished, smiling as Bucky admired her work and gently blew on his nails. It looked pretty good, despite the little bits that had missed his nail and spread onto the finger itself. His own sisters never had nail polish, but they had liked when he would dress up in their mothers old clothes, mostly aprons with little holes on the frayed edges from moths, and play house with them.

Chase looked up from where he was supposedly napping for the last hour, “Dude, you wouldn’t let go of my hand for the rest of the time. I was pissed, ruined my chance to casually grab Gert’s hand.”   

“You wanted to hold my hand? Aw! That’s so cute!” Gert grinned at her boyfriend, placing a small kiss on his temple. “Have you ever gone on a road trip, Bucky?”

Bucky glanced at her, blinking for a few seconds. “Nah, we never really left the city. Actually, me and Stevie, we joked that being in Europe was our first road trip.” He smiled to himself, glancing down at his pink fingernails, remembering the scent of Lucky cigarettes and his friend’s hard chest. 

 

Molly liked whenever Bucky braided her hair. Even though he hadn’t done it in years, his hands seemed to remember how to do it, intertwining her thick hair into elegant or simple braids. They had started stopping at camping spots, secluded from where many other people visited, staying in their clearing around a small bonfire, staying put for days on end until they felt they overstayed their welcome or needed more food. Molly would turn, tugging his right hand to her head as she asked him to braid it, assuring him she would return the favor. 

“You’re really good at braiding hair.” She commented between bites of a sandwich, watching Chase and Karolina softly sing a duet together as they stared into the fire, while Gert, Nico, and Alex argued about a cartoon, faces completely serious. 

“Yeah, well, when you have three little sisters, a fella learns a trick or two.” Bucky could feel himself grinning, slightly, feeling sort of shy as he pressed his face against his arm for a second. He pulled his hands away from her hair. “I’m done.” 

“Okay! Thanks! Now it’s your turn!” Molly turned towards him, freezing for a second before wrapping her arms around him. “Please don’t cry! I know everything is hard right now and feels- feels horrible, but, I know everything will turn out good, great even! One day. Our parents will go to jail and you’ll be able to face your future! Face what you were made to do.”

Bucky smiled down at her, wiping at the tears that rolled down his cheeks. When he closed his eyes he could see the bright orange impression from the fire, dancing in front of his eyes. Letting out a breath, he said, “I want to see my sisters again. I miss them. When I was out in the front, I wrote to them as much as I could, thought about how they were doing without me, without our pop. I learned, while I was kept prisoner before Steve saved us, that he had died, my ma didn’t say what, but I knew how…” 

George Barnes had always been a ridiculously reckless drunk, hit a brief high before hitting a deep, deep low. It had to be from his pop, the sadness Bucky could feel curling around the edge of his mind, even before the war, before the torture, before HYDRA. He did a good job of hiding it, remembering the good, but sometimes, he would burst, his fingers digging into his thighs as he bit the inner part of his arm, keeping in a scream, wanting away from his father, wanting money, wanting for Steve to be healthy and not nearly die every winter. 

“I want to know how they lived on without me when it feels like I lost more than just an arm, more than just eighty years.” Bucky opened his eyes and smiled at Molly, still feeling the tears wet on his cheeks. “You remind me of my sister Bea. The last time I saw her, she was around your age.” He turned around, speaking low, just to her, as she made two little braids from his hair, about Bea. 

 

On Bucky’s twelfth birthday, his mother gave birth to his youngest sister, Ruth Beatrice Barnes. Bucky and Becca had insisted on their newest sister having a B middle name to be like Bucky, especially since their mother had told them that their new sibling would be born around march. Despite being told repeatedly that they couldn’t be sure what the sex of the baby would be, Bucky was adamant that he was having another baby sister, insisting that she would be Beatrice, Bea for short. By the time his birthday rolled around, his mother gave birth to Bea, his favorite birthday present. 

He spoiled her with hugs and piggy back rides, saved up cash when he could so he could buy pretty, soft fabric that Sarah Rogers would make into little stuffed animals while Bucky made (after he had firmly insisted on it) her and Stevie a large steaming pot of soup. Bea had a nice amount of toys from Bucky, a small collection she kept on the corner of her and Betty’s bed. He would braid her hair, when she reached a time when she insisted that Becca pulled much too hard and that Bucky would be a thousand times better. He was not, but Becca taught him, with Betty as their reluctant doll. When he announced his orders to leave to his family, she was the first to wrap her arms around him, tears in her brown eyes. 

Bea was bright as the sun, someone who people would bend over backwards to please. Bucky had reason to believe she could become a great person when she grew older, someone who could change many things if she wanted. Or overthrow the United States and become their rightful queen. He and Steve jokingly called her Queen Beatrice the First. 

 

“Why does daddy hit you?” Bea asked him, her little fingers playing with her equally little toes through her stockings. 

That sent a shock through him, staring at her with wide eyes for few seconds before returning to untangling her unruly, curly hair so he could make it into pretty little braids. “Why you asking?” He ran the brush through her hair. 

Bea whimpered and scrunched up her face, but did not cry like she would when Becca was the one behind her. “Cause daddy isn’t mean to me, but- but why is he mean- why is he mean to you?” 

God, Bucky wished he knew the answer to that. There had been nights he cried into Stevie’s arm, his best friend making cooing noises into his hair, about the whipping he had got, the look on his father's face when he looked at him, something he couldn’t describe beyond anger, but there had to more to it right? Was it the booze his father somehow acquired? Was it whatever mixed up, weird shell shock he had gotten from the war? Was he… just like that? Bucky pressed a kiss to the top of Bea’s face. “Cause I’m the oldest. I protect you all from getting hurt, I make sure all that meanness is for only me to feel, so that ya can love daddy how all little girls do. Now, shh, imma make that braid nice and tight, little Bea.” 

 

Sometimes they were close enough to smaller towns that Bucky would leave for a day and get a quick under the table job- help someone’s son work on their car, mow the elderly's lawn, help out at a restaurant. It was much less laborious than what he had done as a young adult, it felt peaceful. Once in a while, he would open his eyes after mowing a lawn, going to thank the owner for letting him do the job, forgetting that he wasn’t in fact in the thirties, as friendly Bucky Barnes of Brooklyn, the young man who worked at the dock and was on his way to becoming a boxing champion. The old ladies appreciated his charm, commenting on how he played it up, talking like an old school boy from their days. It would bring him back, that yeah, he wasn’t that kid anymore. 

 

“I reached the Captain America and Howling Commandos chapter.” Gert said, breaking the silence of their little camp. She had her head resting on Chase’s lap, book up on her knees, glasses on her chest. She glanced at Bucky, who was sitting against a tree, thinking about the last time he had saw Steve in person. “They have, like, a whole bio on you, but I don’t know if it would be rude to read it. Like, this is about you. Your birthday, your whole life that was known up until twenty-twelve.” 

Bucky snapped out of his thoughts. “Read it, tell me what you think.” 

A few minutes later, Gert snorted. “This is calling you a ladies man. Is that even true? I’ve only ever seen you talk to old ladies- unless, oh my God, do you have an old ladies kink? God, why did that come to my mind.  Cause, I mean, not to shame you, but ew. Please tell me you do not.” The girl covered her eyes with her hands, as though to banish any weird thoughts in her head.

“Holy shit Gert, you don’t just ask someone about the possibility of their weird ass kinks. We were living in peace until now.” Nico scrunched her nose, going back to where she was drawing figures in the soft dirt with a stick. 

“I’m just charming as hell. Plus, they aren’t completely wrong- not about the kink, damn ya odd heel! I was a bit of a cake-eater in my day, though not like how everyone thinks. Most of the girls I ‘dated’ were lesbians.” Bucky picked some dirt from under his nails, scowling, before glancing up to see the kids shocked faces. “What, you think queer people were made in this century?” 

“No- we- wait, so you?” Karolina opened her mouth, no more words escaping her lips. Nico reached over and closed her mouth for her. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow at them. “I’m all about fellas, dames, not my type. Stevie and I would take out dames who wanted to go out with their own girls, scared of being found out if it was just the two of them.” 

“That’s… really cool of you to do.” Nico replied, smiling at him, wide and happy. 

“Wait, so were you and Captain America a thing then?” Alex asked incredulously after a few seconds of silence. 

That was such a funny concept that Bucky straight up laughed, head back, face full of a grin. “No! God, no! Steve’s like my brother, I could never be with him like that. Plus, the kid’s as straight as an arrow.” Sure, he thought he was pretty cute, and damn did that serum up his looks, but he never seriously thought of Steve as someone he would want to be with. He actually never seriously thought of any man past of a few longing looks and nights in their bedsheets. It had never been an option for Bucky. 

 

Bucky had a panic attack when the man he had been seeing for a few nights had showed up to his and Steve’s apartment. Usually, he would be fine with something like that, but he was very clearly canned, eyes drooped as he leaned against the door jamb and he leaned much too close to Bucky, the scent of liquor clear in his breath. Becca was also over at the moment, sitting in the small kitchen, talking with Steve. He had been looking for a reason to leave them alone for a bit, hoping his little sister would finally spit out the words she’d been wanting to tell Steve since she was fifteen. He had not, however, wanted this to be the reason. Bucky locked his jaw and shut the door, stepping outside. 

“You need to leave.” 

“Aww c’mon James, c’mon, don’t be a pill.” The man had said. Fuck, Bucky couldn’t remember his name, what was it? Something with a… it was Dickey! That was his name, Bucky remembered, cause he had giggled like a schoolgirl and made some obscene joke while stumbling into his bed. Dickey reached up to caress Bucky’s face, causing Bucky to step back and swat at him. 

“Hey, you need to lay off pal. We didn’t make arrangements. And I sure as hell don’t appreciate ya comin’ over when my best friend and my little sister are here. So go be fried elsewhere, please.” Bucky stared daggers at him, his hands on his hips. 

Dickey had honest to God pouted and stepped forward, whispering into Bucky’s ear. “C’mon, I just want to be with ya, yer a good fella, kind, strong. I’m- I ain’t gonna lie James, but I’m stuck on ya.” 

Good God. Bucky rubbed at his eyes, feeling the starting at a headache. “Look, that’s real nice, real swell pal, but I ain’t gonna be your man, so take a step back and leave, or else I will get physical, and not the way you want, got it?” He watched as Dickey backed off, reluctantly walking off, looking over his shoulder once or twice as he stumbled over his two feet. Once he was out of sight, Bucky stepped inside, pressed his face against the door and cried, hard, biting at his lip so Steve and Becca couldn’t hear him, but he was gasping, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t believe he had showed up to his home when it wasn’t night, and he felt his sister’s hand on his shoulders, leading him to the couch.

 

Kaolina stepped up to him later that day, wringing her hands together, biting at her lip. He gave her one look and patted next to him, a pile of folded blankets. The teenager sat down, giving him a small smile. 

“I’m a lesbian.” Karolina said after a few minutes, both of their eyes trained ahead, where Old Lace was snuggling with one of Gert’s shirts. The dinosaur was snoring. It was cute. “I- I never really said that out loud before. Like, everyone knows, but I never really said it. It’s- even though I want to live true to myself, it is really freaking hard to- to admit. To tell people. When you said you were an ex-prisoner-assassin-whatever for nazis from the forties, I really freaked out. I can’t help but think that was messed up of me, not fully trusting you.”

Bucky snorted. “C’mon Karolina. I still don’t expect you kids to trust me. I’m some weird, greasy white man with a metal arm and some deep ass shell shock that picked you up in the middle of nowhere, California. You didn’t have to tell me at all, this is your life. Plus, not like I’m some beacon of talk about myself.” If he was honest, he already knew that Karolina was at least interested in girls, with how she looked at Nico, starstruck with every word out of her lips. He was also pretty sure they were actually together, from their actions, but he was not one to pry. 

She shifted, resting her head on his shoulder. “I should. What everyone else knows, you should too. These past few weeks… you’ve become family. Whether you like it or not. You’re a Runaway, Barnes.” The grin on her face was apparent in her voice, making Bucky smile as well. 

“A Runaway?” Bucky puffed his cheeks, letting out a slow breath. “Well, damn, guess I am.” 

It felt nice, being part of something, a family, again. He had his sisters and Steve and his mother, he had the Howling Commandos, now he had the Runaways. Closing his eyes, he wondered if he would have more family if he was brave enough to stop longing and step forward, to stop running. 

 

Steve was sitting cross legged at the end of the bed, Bucky laying full length, his bare feet hanging off the twin bed just a smidge, eyes closed, listening to his best friend’s pencil scratching at the paper pad in his hands. “Hey, Buck? You know that I’m your friend no matter what, right? I won’t ever leave you. Or, well, unless I get sick and-” Steve laughed and pulled away from the hand Bucky stuck out to cover his mouth. “Ya know I’m too stubborn for that, Bucky!”

Bucky dropped his hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know all of what you’re saying! Why you bringing it up?”

The punk only shrugged at him, eyes intently on what he had sketched, hand going back to add something more. “What, I need a reason to let my best friend know I will always be his brother and will love him no matter the case?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky’s mouth felt dry, his shoulders tense, his breath short, his lips set in a hard line.

Steve set down his drawing pad, sighing. “Look, what Chuck Kinney said bout you and his cousin, I don’t care if it’s true or not, Buck. If it is then, I- I ain’t gonna say shit to nobody and I will protect you all I can. If it’s not then I’ll beat Kinney’s ass for trying to make beef between the two of us. That simple.” Stevie had watery blue eyes that could stare down Bucky’s whole soul. 

Bucky could hear himself audibly swallow, his eyes trained on Steve’s little monkey ear. He hated how his eyes began to prickle, but he spoke. “It’s true. Imma- I prefer fellas.”

Soft hands placed over his own calloused hands. “So I gotta find another excuse to pummel Kinney’s crook ass, huh?” 

“Holy shit punk, pummel his ass? Ya can’t even stand up straight, and ya think you can take on Kinney? Look, if ya start shit, I will not stop ya, just saying.” He looked his best friend in the eyes, the both of the grinning, maybe making a plan on what to do if Steve finally snapped one of these days at Kinney for being the asshole he was. Was definitely not the first time the man did something shitty- Kinney liked to stand too close to dames and give them more drinks then they could handle. Bucky may not be the one prone to fist fights or hold grudges, but the man might just deserve a jump from Steve and a step in from Bucky. 

 

The thing about being an adult around teenagers was that sometimes they relied on him- a lot. Much more than they should from an out of place soldier. He didn’t mind most times, except when his mind was a complete mess and he didn’t want to move and he could hear the kids arguing in the background, louder than it probably actually was and he would force himself to stand and help them placate with each other and settle what he could. Eventually, they realised when he was having his Bad Days and would let him be- usually that was him in the corner of the van, letting only Old Lace close to him. The dinosaur would cuddle with him, it was nice, even if her head was a little spiky. Gert would sometimes give him tips with panic attacks. Other times, he let her stay next to him, her soft voice rambling about something, whatever, anything, helping him ground into reality once again. 

Bucky was getting over a Bad Night, shuffling out of the van to get some fresh air, trying his best not to step on any hands or feet. Luckily, Gert and Chase had slept in the front seats and the others had kind of piled together as far away from Bucky, leaving him room. Hair, wet with sweat, stuck to his neck and cheek, Bucky detaching locks from his face as he squatted outside the van. 

Steve was going to catch up with him. He knew he was. Bucky was staying in California much too long, he had already been spotted here, why was he staying? The lasting but of the Soldier in his mind asked why he was sticking around with these kids, cause they reminded him of family? He didn’t need family, he didn’t need anything, why the fuck was he still even alive-

Bucky breathed out. Bad Night, that was it. He was fond of these kids. And Karolina was right, he was sort of part of the family now. Just the day before Molly had called him their “cool gay uncle who tells us some inappropriate war stories, but he takes us places and we have, like, deep talks about life and the universe,” which started making the others jokingly call him Uncle Buck. It was cute. 

Bea had called him “dad” once. It had made Bucky and Becca and his mom laugh. It had pissed the fuck out of his pop, though. He had roughly grabbed Bea, his four year old daughter, by her arm and shook her until Bucky had pushed at him, eyes wide, surprised at himself for doing that, he had never hit his father back, maybe because he had never laid a hand on his sisters before then. When Bucky went to sleep that night, he had been sore as hell. He heard sniffles from his three sisters, little Bea shooting up when he laid down, laying next to him, crying into his shirt until she tired out. 

It was as though the pain from his sixteen year old self had caught up to him now, his shoulders beginning to shake as silent tears made way down his face. Fuck! He had let the gates open once, and now he could not stop, his eyes kept on letting tears leave him. It was pathetic. He barely heard the van door opening, the crunch of boots, Chase’s warm arm wrapping around his shoulders. 

 

The morning after his Bad Night, Chase went with him to town to help out with mowing lawns. They didn’t talk much unless the kid was making a bad joke or Bucky asked him to help him with something. Chase was sweating more than Bucky, thank God to superhuman serum huh? California weather sure was fucked up- some days it was nice and cool, then hot as hell, then back to cool. It irritated the kids most days, who would moan about being much too near each other, or being much too cold and wanting more body warmth near them. 

They left back to their little camp with a little more cash in their pockets. 

As they were making their way, Chase breathed in and said, “My dad’s an asshole. I mean, you know all our parents aren’t the best, but my dad? Might be one of the worst. At least everyone else knew their parents loved them, have good memories, you know?” Chase buried his hands in his jeans pockets, sighing. “For a bit there I even thought, ‘wow, maybe he actually does care!’” 

Bucky looked at the kids big eyes, welling up with tears, holding back. Without thinking he lightly pressed his left hand to the kids shoulder. “Stevie used to be a bit jealous since I still had my pop around. He didn’t really understand sometimes. When we got older, he did. Why I would have more bruises than I should, why I liked to spend nights with him and his ma. Some nights, they were good, he was good, he’d laugh with me and tell me he was proud when I came home with good grades. But, most days? I fucking despised everything about him. I was never strong enough to say or do anything about it though. Let me tell you something I wish my pop told me- You’re a strong, smart kid Chase. Anything you want, you will do, I know it.” 

Chase smiled up at him, small tears dripping from his eyes. “Thanks Uncle Buck.” 

Bucky laughed and ruffled at the kids head, Chase trying to duck away, but much too slow for him, “yeah, yeah ya little punk!” The kid giggled, letting the noogie happen, his hands on Bucky’s forearm. 

 

Look, Bucky knew these kids were extraordinary, they had told him everything, but he had never really seen it. Sure, Gert was the only one he saw on the daily with her psychic connection with Old Lace, but he had kind of written it off as an intense loyalty. Then, fourteen year old Molly Hernandez had picked him up by the back of his shirt like a rowdy pussy cat, standing on top of the van, because of course, laughing at the surprised look on his face as she set him down. “Tag, you’re it!” She exclaimed excitedly, jumping off the car and running off, giggling. 

Suddenly he understood the night he met the Runaways, when he had somehow been dragged along by Molly. He had no idea she was strong enough to push him around. 

Bucky shot off, listening for the others playing- Karolina and Chase. Molly was zig zagging around, Chase was hiding a little ways off, and Karolina- Holy shit. Glancing up, he could see her flying near the tops of the trees, glowing bright, changing colors, grinning down and him and waving. These kids did not play fair, huh? Bucky lowered his knees, jumping up, lifting his right hand, just barely grazing the girl’s shoe. Karolina scowled, sticking her tongue out at him, Bucky waving at her as he ran off. 

These kids, by God. 

He couldn’t understand how their parents could betray them. While it did sound like their hands were being forced in some way, if they truly wanted their children safe, they shouldn’t have done what they had done. These kids were so good, they didn’t deserve this. 

His ears rang with the kids giggles as they continued to played. 

 

Betty had scraped her knee while playing tag with some neighborhood kids. Bucky, who was sharing a cigarette with Steve on the steps of their building watching the kids running around, shot up the moment he heard his little sisters whimpers. The other kids were circled around her, looking worried, little faces scrunched up. 

“Ay, get out the way ya little maggots.” Bucky scowled at them, cursing a bit when he noticed he dropped the damn cigarette on his shoe. He kicked it off towards Stevie, who fumbled with catching it. When he crouched in front of his sister, he pressed his hand on her head, “C’mon Betty, let me see your knee, c’mon.” She slowly lifted her hands up, revealing the cut. It didn’t look too deep or anything, though lots of blood was flowing and pieces of gravel were stuck to it. Bucky kissed her forehead, mumbling that it was gonna hurt, but that he was gonna make it better. 

When he turned, he could see Steve, breathing a bit hard, clutching that first aid kit from his apartment, stumbling down the stairs. He took the damn thing from his friends hands, “Damn, kid, go sit down and take a sec. I’m not up to fixing you up too.” 

“Fuck you,” Steve stuck his tongue out at Bucky, like he wasn’t going to rest for a moment. 

Turning back to his little sister, Bucky plucked out the rocks from her knee, talking to her in a low voice. The neighborhood kids had grown tired of watching them, going back to playing. He wiped off all the blood with a cloth. “Hey, remember that rubbing alcohol mama had to pour on your foot when you stepped on glass when you were five?” 

“Yeah, I hated it! Oh no, please tell me you aren’t!” Betty whined, pouting up at him. 

Bucky smiled at her. “Sorry Bette, but gotta get it done. You ready?” He hold up the bottle, pouring a bit into the cap. 

“No, fuck you.” Betty responded, scowling at him, obviously not as hurt as she was making herself out to be. Little brat.  

“Hey! Language!” Steve shouted from the steps, Betty making a face towards him, just as Bucky poured the rubbing alcohol on her scraped knees. His sister hissed at the pain before claiming that she was fine, a-okay, and going back to playing with the other kids. 

As he sat back down next to Steve, he made a whining noise of his own. “Damn, that girl. She takes too much influence from you, ya damn punk.” His friend smiled cheekily at him, laughing.  

 

Gert was laying inside the van, silent tears streaming down her face, clutching her stomach when Bucky got back from the store, pack of heating pads in his hands. Her menstruation cycle had been temporarily delayed for a few months due to stress, but it came back this morning with a vengeance. Chase had been ready to run the whole way to town, but Bucky had calmed him down, assuring him that he was much faster, plus maybe Gert would want him there for something. The kid had put on his serious face, nodding intently.

Bucky ripped open the box, took out a pad, and tossed it to Chase. “She likes your face the most, give it to her.” 

“R-right.” Chase visibly swallowed, climbing into their van. 

Nico came up next to him. “Damn, your power walk ability is extreme.” Bucky snorted and softly elbowed her arm. “I’m bored and Karo and Molls are doing, like, meditation. Do you mind being my makeup guinea pig?” 

“I thought you had black smudge down.” Bucky sighed, eyeing her own makeup, which, admittedly actually looked very nice, even if it was not in a style he had seen woman wearing growing up. 

“Um, excuse you? The behavior that you exhibited was rude, the asshole jumped out, wow. Let me tell you, I have totally seen some pics of you during the whole DC whatever, so don’t sass me about a black smudge look Barnes.” Nico rolled her eyes. “I will give you some wings, all the boys in town will be thirsting for your whole emo hipster vibe.” She gestured at his face, smiling. 

“I have no clue what the fuck that means, I am sure I will hate it, but, alright, you got me, make me pretty.” Bucky plopped down, closing his eyes, waiting for Nico to come at him with whatever makeup instrument she wanted. Every touch of a pencil or what the hell she was using was soft, just like her voice as she muttered under her breath about any mistake made. When she finished, he heard her fish around for one of the disposable camera they had bought, snapping a picture before asking him to open his eyes and pose. He did so, resting his chin on his closed palm, smiling at her. 

As she lowered the camera, she fidgeted a bit with her hands, as though she was unsure of her next move, before she sighed and sat next to him. “Buck?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why don’t you see your sisters? Sorry, I know this is such a ridiculously personal and invasive as fuck question, but. I know, if Amy was still alive and out there, I would be dying to see her. Even more than now.” She bit at her black lips, her eyes wide with questions. 

Bucky glanced at his hands. The metal hand rested over his true hand, his nails chipped with yellow nail polish. He had always thought yellow was a nice color- it reminded him of Steve’s dark blonde hair, of the sun shining on hot days as a kid, of his mother's favorite dress she wore for sunday mass, of the dandelions he had stuck into Becca’s hair, of one of Bea’s stuffed dolls with a paisley pattern, of the handkerchief Betty used to push back her long thick hair while working. It was bright, it was good, it held all he had loved in life. 

Taking in a breath, he answered. “I want to, so fucking bad. Maybe they want to see me, but- I’m different. Sometimes I have my good days, and I can talk up a storm, others… I’m just some fusion of the man and the weapon. Is it selfish to not want to shit on the memories they have of their older brother?” 

Nico didn’t speak for a minute. “I understand. You’ve seen some shit. But, like, haven’t they changed and grown too? They are not fourteen, nineteen, and twenty-three anymore. Sure, they might cry over what happened to their cool older brother, but won’t they cry more, when their time comes, and they never got the chance to see you again? Plus… no matter what, you’re still Bucky. Even when you have to pace around and do something, even when you can’t sleep and have ‘patrol duty.’ Changing is life, man.” 

Bucky glanced at her- her white skin with pink blush and black makeup, the blouse that had to be her girlfriend’s, her black hair obscuring half her face. “I thought I was the one dishing out life advice.” 

“Yeah, well, we are a family. It’s not some one way street.” Nico’s lips quirked up. “Right, Alex?” She yelled towards the boy, who was reading a book, not too far away to where he could eavesdrop if he wished to. 

Apparently the punk had been because he grinned over at them. “Yeah, we’re some weird seven way intersection that nobody can cross.”

“Eight,” Bucky stood, stretching his arm. At the teenagers raised eyebrow, he smiled, “You forgot the dinosaur.” 

 

“Hey, wanna meditate with me and Karolina?” Molly asked, her hands breaking apart some of the thicker sticks that her and Karolina had collected the day before. “I actually kind of always end up thinking about Pokemon, but, like, Karolina says once you get into it, blah blah blah, it really helps with the psyche and body. So, what do you say?” 

“Why the fuck not?” He answered with a shrug. 

 

Bucky hated church, especially when he reached his later teenage years and had certain revelations about himself. It wasn’t too bad, sure, as a kid the hour had felt like the longest hour in the world, listening to old men prattle on and having to shake hands and wish peace to the people around him who he knew for a fact weren’t holy. Catechism was annoying, because he wanted to play and get into shenanigans, and because Stevie wasn’t in the same class as him. At least once he passed that he got to wear his nicest clothes and feel rich and haughty. And eat the Eucharist, which was good. When he got older, he fought going to church at all, his father never went, why did he have to. His mother had sighed, asked her husband to chime in. It was the one time George Barnes had said “let the damn boy do what he want Win.” 

He couldn’t go once his father had lost his job, causing him to work odd hours whenever he could. Though, when his mother asked him to go, he did. 

When he first had sex with a man, he had gone to the first confessional he could find. The damn priest had practically shamed him for his actions, causing him to sob in the damn box, told him the price of his repentance- ten Hail Mary’s, ten Our Father’s, and to meditate through daily on what he had done, how to avoid making such a shameful sin again. Bucky had gone through five Hail Mary’s in the pews before deciding to fuck it. He had enjoyed his time, he had been happy, smiling and feeling all soft and mushy when the man had kissed him all over. 

Why couldn’t he be happy? Wasn’t that what God wanted of him?

 

“If you feel like we are distracting you in any way, feel free to move away from us. Meditation is about yourself, clearing your mind, airing all of your thoughts and frustrations with yourself.” Karolina smiled at him as she crossed her legs, resting her hands on her knees. “This helps with stress, anxiety, anything that can be mentally hindering you, whatever you cannot find yourself to say.” 

“Thanks, Pastor Karolina,” Molly grinned cheekily, clumsily crossing her own legs, sitting next to the older girl. 

Bucky sat a little aways from them, he breathed in as his hands dropped from tying his hair up away from his face. Then, he just sat and thought.

Man, did Bucky have a lot to think about. His whole life had turned into a whole cluster of a mess that he did not know how to straighten out. Before the war, all he had to worry about was being caught with having men as sexual partners, feeling the pressure to hide what was only a quarter of himself, his blood, but still very much something he wished to be proud of, worrying about how his father treated his mother and sisters when he had moved out with Stevie. 

He- he had wanted to move out for so long, but when he had, he had dearly missed his sisters and couldn’t help the dread that George would push all of his anger onto Becca instead of him. When he asked Becca about their fathers behavior, she gave a small smile, replying that he was barely at their home anymore. Bucky never knew what to think of that.

Living with Steve had been nice, though it had him shaken to his core, being the caretaker whenever Stevie had an episode, was close to the brink of death much too many times that it made Bucky cry himself to sleep on their couch. At least, now, Stevie would not be with one foot in the grave every Goddamn time the wind blew. Those months, with Steve as their Captain in that God awful suit, a symbol of a man, had been enlightening in a way. His best friend could live then- even if he put himself in much more danger than anyone else during raids- after the war, Steve Rogers would live. He had been tough about it in front of Steve, only letting his eyes shine as he gripped his shoulder and grinned up- fucking  _ up _ \- at him. He thought they had the rest of their lives. 

Then he fell. 

Breathing became harder when he thought about it, so he chose not to. He didn’t want to remember how much it all had hurt- sometimes it was beyond words. He didn’t want to remember all the faces of those who he killed, though they each stayed deep in his subconscious, something he could retrieve at any given moment. 

Steve. He was searching for Bucky, he knew he was the stubborn asshole. Not to push around as the criminal many wanted to accuse him as (wasn’t he though? Shouldn’t he repent for all the lives lost due to him? He felt he should, though… Bucky never liked repenting), but, no, Steve wanted his friend. God, that damn punk, he probably didn’t even care how screwed up Bucky can be. Nobody who loved him would care how screwed up he was. 

Bucky’s shoulders untensed. 

They wouldn’t care. They just wanted to see him, all four of them, to know that despite it all, their big brother got back up and even if he was more roughed up, he was strong, he was there, he was a pillar. He was Bucky Barnes, with a few more issues and one less limb. That’s what all this was leading up to, wasn’t it? He met these kids for a reason- to learn how to be Bucky again. 

 

Alex was much more closed off then the others, so it surprised him when, late at night when the others were asleep, Old Lace’s snores ringing loud, that the boy sat next to Bucky, resting his chin on his raised knees. The chill wind blew loose lock’s of Bucky’s hair back. Alex took a deep breath, a tell tale sign of a some deep conversation beginning, causing Bucky to wait for what he had to say. Nothing came. 

He raised his eyebrows. “No talk then?” 

The kid rolled his eyes. “Yes, talk. I’m just trying to… look, it’s hard to talk about shit! I’m used to closing myself off.” 

“Talking to the former king of closing shit off, lay it on me kid.” Bucky patted his chest, a hint of a grin on his face. 

“One day soon,” Alex started slowly, frowning, “we will have to face our parents again. And I think that it will be me who decides when we move on them. I know it has to be soon, and- and I nearly have the proof! It’s almost recovered and I think I can do it, I can. We- we’ll have to- to fight them. And I know you can’t be there for this. Maybe you want to help, but this is our battle, our parents. So- uh. I guess I’m just not sure how we’re going to deal with… everything. I literally have no plan, and neither does anyone else when I asked.” 

Bucky knew this would come up- the kids having to fight their parents. Sometimes he thought about it- he wanted to fight, but he knew that they wanted to deal with this issue by themselves. God were they all stubborn. He sighed. “Yeah, this shit’s tough. To be honest, I have nothing but my skills to teach to help you.” 

Alex opened his mouth, then closed it. “Are- are you offering to show us some badass assassin skills that I might regret after a day? Cause that sounds badass, but I am very obviously not Chase, I prefer fighting video game style.” 

Bucky shrugged. “It’s all I got. You’re all smart kids, I know you can figure it better than this high school dropout. Now, c’mon Alex, get yourself to bed.” 

“Holy shit, I am so gonna regret this talk, huh?” Alex laughed softly to himself before climbing back into the van. 

 

Molly, Karolina, and Chase were excited when Bucky told him that he was gonna teach them how to fight. Nico and Gert had shared a look before declaring “no thanks Uncle Buck!” in cheery voices, opting to watch the from the side. Alex, despite his groaning, was going ahead and learning. 

They were all doing great, picking up on moves fast, accepting any criticisms Bucky had. Their faces were serious- faces of people knowing that war was ahead of them. It broke his heart- they were his kids, his family, they shouldn’t have this. They deserved good stability in their lives. Something they would not receive until they fought their parents. Once they had gotten used to the motions Bucky had taught them, he paired them up, practicing against a person before they asked if they could have mini fights. Molly and Alex were first. Alex was a little clumsy at first, reluctant to hit Molly, until Molly completely mowed him down- without her strength. 

“Wait- one more.” Alex groaned as he stood back up, holding up one finger. 

Molly shrugged, “I’m down.” 

The second round was longer, though Alex needed to work on speed and using whatever strength he had. Alex defeatedly sat down next to Bucky, who pat his back, assuring him that he will do better with practice.

Karolina and Chase’s fight was fun to watch. Karolina was quick on her feet, while Chase had size and strength to him. She toppled him over, raising her arms in victory, cheering along with Molly and Nico. After Bucky explained to them all what they needed to work on and how to improve, Molly asked if she and Karolina could fight, with powers. 

“Now that, I want to see.” Chase exclaimed, grinning wide. “I’m so rooting for Molly.” 

“Same.” Alex said, rubbing his back.

“Yeah! Go Molly!” Gert cheered, accompanied by a small roar from Old Lace, who nodded her head. 

Karolina pouted at Bucky, who raised his hands. “Sorry, Karo, I am your uncle, I can’t choose favorites.” The kids laughed, Molly shaking her head and saying that was his way of saying he was on Team Molly. 

“It’s alright babe!” Nico said, “I’m rooting for you!” 

Karolina grin was bright already, but grew near blinding when she threw off her bracelet, rising off the ground slightly. The fight was going good, fun to watch as Molly thought she would land a hit, only for Karolina to evade by quick steps back. The former hit her pretty good on the thigh when Karolina flew up, miscalculating how fast Molly could be. The older teen wobbled in the air, giving Molly a chance to grab her foot, forcing her down and pinning her. 

“Whoo-hoo!” Molly cheered, grinning at them as they all cheered and clapped. “I would like to thank everyone who has supported me, ever, except for Nico, who rooted for her girlfriend. I will also like to thank, um, Miesha Tate, because she is the only woman fighter I can think of right now. Thanks to Thor, my favorite god, whose biceps are as big as both my thighs combined and deserve, like, to be thanked everyday. So, Thor, wherever you are, continue being swole as heck and inspiring young girls and boys everywhere. Lastly, I will thank my wonderful coach, Bucky. He is awesome as hell, the coolest uncle brother whatever any girl can ask for. Thanks for being part of our lives. And for teaching me how to properly mess up anyone who may challenge me in battle.” The girl placed her hands on his shoulders, smiling softly, leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead. 

The others pounced on him, a large group hug forming. 

 

Boxing was slowly becoming his life. He loved the thrill, the feel against his knuckles. Fighting another person wasn’t so fun, but Bucky was good, really fucking good, and he won, a lot, so the hits? They didn’t matter so much then. When Steve learned just how good Bucky was, he practically begged for Bucky to help teach him. Th real sinker was his “c’mon Buck, don’t ya want me to not get hurt all the time?” Damn punk. 

“Damn kid, ya leave yourself so open, no wonder ya always get the shit beat of you.” Bucky grinned, dodging a hit from Steve. 

“Shut up, jerk.” Steve breathed in, letting Bucky adjust his gangly arms, turning back to the punching bag. Bucky just rolled his eyes. Steve was pretty good, but he was small and weak and- 

“Alright. You are breathing way to hard, kid. Let’s go now.” Bucky set a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. At Steve’s glare he shook his head. “No way, punk. I cannot have you have an attack because of me. You may hate me for this, but c’mon kid, know your limits.” 

“I don’t hate you. I hate my dumb, weak body.” Stevie sighed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Bucky placed his hand on his back and gave him a smile. “Okay, stop being all nice, I don’t hate myself. Just don’t like feeling like this.” 

Bucky took out a cigarette, smiling as he lit it. “Good. This older brother ain’t gonna let any of his siblings feel down on themselves. Now, sit down for a bit,” he blew smoke off to the side, handing the cigarette to Steve, “smoke a little and draw me in action or something.” He winked, coughing when Steve deliberately blew smoke of his own into his face, the little asshole. 

 

The tip of the package crinkled in Bucky’s hands as he tossed it over to Nico and Karolina. When the girls had asked him to go and place an order for their pictures to be developed, he had been a bit paranoid, but nothing had come from it, like the kids had all assured him it would. Nico immediately ripped open the package and pulled out the pictures, handing them to Karolina after she finished looking. 

“Oh good, multiple copies.” Nico murmured. “You wanna see them Buck?” 

“Nah, it’s alright. Maybe later.” Bucky sighed, collapsing on top of Old Lace, who roared at him for landing on her, but didn’t scramble away. “Good dog.” 

 

They were on the road again, moving out from where they may have overstayed their welcome. Alex was driving, the radio playing Maroon 5 at Chase’s insistence. Karolina, Nico, and Molly were asleep in the back while Gert and Chase talked in low voices, Gert trying to keep her giggles quiet. Bucky watched the road, his right arm resting on the lowered window. 

“I’m going to leave soon.” Bucky said as his eyes watched the trees and vibrant flowers.

“Already? I mean- I know you were going to leave, but it seems a bit- sudden.” Alex said, turning a little towards Bucky, eyebrows scrunched together. 

“Ya gonna miss me Wilder?” Bucky smirked, cocking his head to the head, resting his eyes on the kid, 

He swallowed. “Yeah, actually. A lot.” 

“I’ll be fine kid. You’ll be fine.” Bucky mumbled. He paused for a second, eyes moving back to the road. “I’ll miss you guys too.” 

 

Bea and Betty had insisted on sleeping at him and Steve’s apartment, sleeping in bed with Bucky, clutching him in hard gripped hugs, sandwiching him between them. Steve woke him up, looking grumpy, his hair a bit of a mess, saying he made breakfast, to hurry up before he had to dress and leave. 

When he moved to sit up, his sisters hands pulled him down. “Not yet,” Betty said, scowling at him. “Who knows when we’ll see you next.” Bea made a sound of agreement, before whispering, “One last Bucky braid, please.” 

While Bucky ate breakfast, he braided Bea’s long hair, nice and tight. Becca came, weary eyed, giving Steve a small smile before wrapping him in a hug, whispering in his ear. God, hopefully with Bucky leaving they will finally get together. Steve had never said anything about being interested in Becca, but he always gave her dopey grins, so Bucky thought it might have been because of her being Bucky’s little sister. 

They walked with him to where other recruits, soldiers, were dressed, ready to ship out. One by one his siblings gave him crushing hugs. Bea was first. He kissed her forehead. “Hey, don’t cry Bea. I’ll be a-okay and knock that Hitler bastard down, promise. And I never break a promise, ya know that.” Bea nodded, wiping at her face. 

“I’ll miss you, Buck,” she whispered before pulling away. 

Betty’s hug went on for a full minute, as she basically threatened to kill him if he didn’t come home in one piece. “I swear to God above Bucky, if ya do something that makes us lose any part of ya…” she trailed off, letting Bucky press a kiss to her cheek. 

While hugging Becca, he whispered in her ear, “So, Steve’s gonna be all alone. Think he needs a good gal like you around to help him out, what ya think, Becca? You finally gonna say your piece, after how long ya been carrying that torch?” His sister jabbed at his stomach, pulling back with a shrug before planting a kiss on his cheek. 

“God, Buck, can’t shut up for one second, huh? You and Stevie better not have a full out bull’s session right now, I swear.” Becca rolled her eyes at him, placing herself between their two little sister, wrapping her arms around them. 

Steve stepped up to him, hand held out. “I’ll see you at the front lines, Sarge.” 

Bucky took his hands, pulling him into a quick hug. “If I do, I will personally kill you myself, Rogers.” 

 

The day he left the Runaways was full of tears from the kids.

He had packed up his bag, full of his clothes (although a certain jacket had left his radar completely, though he wasn’t about to ask for it back), a ziploc full of pictures, some food and water bottles, and Molly’s yellow nail polish that she had slipped inside his backpack last night after painting his nails. 

“I am going to miss you so much. Nobody else lets me put my makeup on them.” Nico murmured as she pulled him close to her. He patted her head when her shoulders shook slightly. 

Alex only shook his hand, head held high, grip tight. “You stay safe man.”

Bucky smiled at him. “Course Wilder. You stay safe too, ya hear me?” The kid nodded his head, his dark eyes shining as he stepped back. 

Gert gave him a hug, squeezing him tight. “Seriously, I didn’t even have, like, a moment with you yet. This is unfair. We better see each other again or I swear to whatever mighty being running our lives, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will hug you.” 

Laughing, Bucky squeezed her back, just a little. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep in touch when I can.” She pulled back, wiping at her tears with her sleeve. 

Bucky was a bit surprised when Chase offered his hand, until the kid burst into tears, tackling Bucky into a large hug. If he had been a regular person, he most certainly would have fallen over. He was not a regular human; he was able to take the hit, barely feeling the kids fingers digging into his back. He rubbed the kids back. “Hey, c’mon, it’s alright Chase.”

The kid shook his head. “Dude, I’m gonna- I’m gonna miss you so fucking much, holy shit. You’re seriously like a cool older brother, Buck. I- I honestly think you’ve helped me, even if it was little things. Being interested in what I- what I do, how I am, just- just being there. You never- you never had to do anything for us.” 

Bucky hugged him back. “You reminded me of myself. You’re a good kid, Chase, stay that way, okay? Hey, c’mon kid, like you really want another earful from this old man. C’mon, stand up straight. Give me a strong face, the one you're gonna give old Stein, the one that’ll get him right scared. That’s it, bud. There you go.” With red tinted eyes and ear stains running down his cheeks, he looked more scared than anything, but he tried, so it was enough. 

Karolina wiped at her eyes, the blue in her eyes stark against the red. “I’m hella going to miss you Uncle Buck” was all she said before letting Molly hug Bucky, giving him a small smile as she stood next to Nico, wrapping her arms around the shorter girl. 

Molly had to be using her strength, it was even hurting him a little bit. His chest hurt- though maybe that was more with knowing that any more of this crying shit was gonna make him burst into tears himself. “Do you hafta leave?” She asked, muffled against his chest. 

“Yeah, Molls, I gotta. It’s time. Um. Becca, she’s turning ninety-eight soon. I should be there.” Perhaps Becca wanted to see him, or she didn’t. No matter what, at this point, she deserved something at least. They all did- Becca and Betty and Beatrice and Steve. They deserved to know and be apart of his new life. “I hope you understand.” 

“Dang Bucky of course! She’s your little sister! Well, technically.” Molly reached into her pocket, pressing a folded piece of paper into his hand. “It has all of our emails. When we’re safe, and you’re safe, send us a shout, please.” 

Bucky pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. “Course. You’re my family.” 

Molly let out a wet laugh.

 

The enticing scent of eggs and bacon wafted through the diner. The table Bucky was sitting at was sticky from syrup and had hearts and initials carved into it, since, apparently, kids these days couldn’t find a tree significant enough to carve into. The national news was playing on a boxy black television in the corner, while someone was playing You Are My Sunshine on the bright red and blue jukebox in the corner. The pretty waitress set his plate of waffles, eggs, and sausage in front of him, pouring more coffee into his cup. 

Bucky could not stop the smile on his face, even if he tried. The pour waitress must’ve thought he was trying to flirt with her, with how she fumbled a bit and blushed, but he really, really was not. 

Just a few minutes before, the news anchors announced how some of Los Angeles’ finest minds were behind several murders, as well as framing five teenagers for one of the murder done in two thousand seventeen along with kidnapping fourteen year old Molly Hernandez. Catherine and Geoffrey Wilder, Robert Minoru, Janet Stein, and Dale and Stacey Yorkes were in custody. Leslie Dean, Tina Minoru, and Victor Stein were reported dead from an accident (that was unfortunate, Bucky hoped the kids were doing okay with that, they were their parents. The kids had begun to understand how someone could be forced on doing something when around Bucky, but who knew what had happened with their parents?) and Frank Dean was reported as missing. The teenagers were free of all prior charges that had been sent for their heads. 

Smiling into his coffee, Bucky thought of how much closer they were again. 

 

It didn't take long for Bucky to find out where Becca Barnes was having her ninety-eight birthday party out. Okay, not him, by himself. Alex had helped him out by snooping around (“it’s called ‘hacking’ Buck, okay, you know what, never mind, yeah, I am totally just snooping around for you”), sending him the details of the party. Becca’s family had chipped in to rent out the ballroom from a Brooklyn hotel, from nine to seven pm. Her whole family would be there. Bucky’s family. 

The kids were sending him supportive emails, with many hearts embedded into the messages (mostly on Molly’s part), encouraging him to see his sister, to finally take the step forward. Also to hurry up so he could buy a phone so they didn’t have to have chain emails to talk to him and wait for him to find a local library with failing old, slow computers that “are as old as Old Lace’s ancestors.”

The closet he had been to Brooklyn was nearly thirty years ago, when he was up in Long Island. The memory made his stomach churn. Taking a deep breath, Bucky shook his head. That wasn’t him, that was not him, that was the programming. He had not wanted to do that, he was forced. He hadn’t completely liked the man, no one really did, but he had cared, and that was what mattered, really, and Bucky had not wanted to hurt him, but the memory was still there, seen through mottled, foggy glass. It was him, but not him. 

He should not be thinking about this, not right now. 

Deep breaths, in, out. 

Bucky glanced back at himself in the mirror- his newly cut hair looked nice, falling into his face just a bit, not as short as it was in the forties, but a nice, manageable length that complimented him well. Better than his usual long greasy locks. His shirt was only just slightly wrinkled. He did not stink, the bottle of cologne he had stolen from a Macy’s smelled pretty good. He could do this, he could do this. He could step into a room full of people he mostly did not know, but knew of him, and have expectations. Those people, they weren’t important though. No, they weren’t. He was going to step into a room where his sisters were, where Steve might even be. 

With one last look in the mirror, Bucky gave himself a tight smile, before turning away, heading towards Brooklyn. 

 

It was a tradition that Bucky had accidently started. They couldn’t always get gifts, so Bucky would sing to his sisters and his mother, dancing around the room with them, or tying their shoes as they got ready to run around the park to play. He even sang for Steve, who would rest his head on Bucky’s shoulder, smiling until he finished his piece, drawing silly little doodles of Bucky in fancy hats and suits on a small strip of paper. 

On Becca’s eleventh birthday, Bucky had pulled Becca into his arms, dragging her across their room, Betty jumping around them as Bucky sang, nose up in the air, collar popped up, smiling wide as he pranced around, singing out:

“ _ Have you seen the well-to-do, up and down Park Avenue _

_ On that famous thoroughfare, with their noses in the air _

_ High hats and Arrowed collars, white spats and lots of dollars _

_ Spending every dime, for a wonderful time _

_ If you're blue and you don't know where to go to _

_ Why don't you go where fashion sits, _

_ Puttin' on the ritz. _

_ Different types who wear a day coat, pants with stripes _

_ And cut away coat, perfect fits, _

_ Puttin' on the ritz. _ ”

His little sister had grinned, demanding him to sing it again, with her this time, letting little Betty grab their hands and lead them in a jumping dance. Bea jumped on the bed, clapping, giggling at her older siblings. When Bucky picked her up, he kissed her little nose before setting her on the floor to dance along with them as he belted out once more in song. 

 

He slipped into the room, staying in the shadows. Attention was upfront, where a small older woman, wearing a pink dress and shiny white shawl over her shoulders. She must still be dying her hair, since dark brown covered the small peppers of gray. Her face was wrinkled, her movement slow, so, so different, so older- but that was her. That was his sister Becca. He could see Betty and Bea sitting at a table near where Becca stood, with two men holding her steady despite the little glares she gave them, they must be her two of her grandsons. Betty was just as wrinkled, with curly hair close to her head dyed a bright purple (Gert would get a kick outta that). Bea was wearing butterfly earrings, her gray hair in a long braid down her back. 

“I want to thank everyone for coming out. It means so much to have all my family here for my birthday.” Becca was saying, her smile warm and sweet and God that was Becca! That was his baby sister. Bucky stepped forward, walking up slowly. “God only knows how much time I have until I joi-  _ Bucky _ ?” His sister stared at him, her foot moving just an inch, her hand moving to cover her mouth. 

His feet were moving before he was even aware of it, only seconds later Bucky wrapped his arms around his little sister, one of his best friends in the world, the person who would lie next to him the few nights when he couldn’t breath and everything seemed fake, tracing smiling faces on his cheeks as she whispered how whatever he was going through was fine, just breathe, just breathe, let it all out Bucky. He hugged her, as tight as he dared, scared of hurting her frail body. 

“Hi, sorry for crashing your party.” Bucky whispered in her ear, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. 

“Your late.” Becca smacked his arm, pulling back, tears welling up in her eyes. “Very, very late!”

Bucky glanced over at Bea and Betty, both of whom had stood up, shakily, gesturing them to come over. He pulled them into the hug, kissing their heads, before glancing behind him, making eye contact with wide, blue eyes. “What you doin’ kid? You’re my brother ain’t ya? Get over here, damn punk.” Steve was by his side in a matter of seconds, wrapping his big arms around Bucky. “So, Bea, I broke my promise. Didn’t even knock that Hitler bastard to his ass, though I still have some nazis I wanna get a good right hook at. Maybe a left, much more sturdy. Speaking off… I couldn’t come back in one piece, Betty. But, the rest of me,” he grabbed Betty’s hand, placing it over his heart, “is here.”

Betty shook her head, her whole body shaking. “I’m so glad for that. To see you again… a dream come true.” 

Bucky smiled, turning a little to Steve, whose blue eyes were rimmed with red, staring at Bucky intensely. “Where have you been?” 

Before answering, Bucky pressed his lips to Steve’s temple in a quick kiss. “California. Did ya know my ma was born there?” Bucky mumbled, taking off his backpack. “I have a birthday present for you, Becca. Though, it can wait until you are done talking.” 

His sister shook her head, moving over towards the table to sit. “I’m done, I’m done. Oh, my, a Bucky present! Seeing you is already so much!” 

His siblings reluctantly moved to sit, Bea clutching at Steve’s arm, smiling widely at him, whispering at him, making him smile even wider than he already then he already was. Bucky rummaged through his bag, pulling out Molly’s yellow nail polish, sitting crossed legged in front of Becca. He smiled up at her as he grabbed her hands in his right hand. 

“So, I had been traveling around with this group of teenagers. It was nice, they welcomed me as a part of their family, even called me ‘Uncle Buck.’ To be honest, if I hadn’t met them I don’t think I would have had the courage to come here today. To face anyone again unless my hand was forced.” Bucky licked his lips, smiling up at her. “There was this song they liked to sing, from some cartoon. It really grew onto me.” Bucky took in a breath, opening the nail polish, wiping excess paint to the side as he raised it to her fingers, beginning to croon out the song:

“ _ Let’s go in the garden _

_ You’ll find something waiting _

_ Right there where you left it _

_ Lying upside down _

_ When you finally find it _

_ You’ll see how it’s faded _

_ The underside is lighter _

_ When you turn it around _

_ Everything stays, _

_ Right where you left it _

_ Everything stays, _

_ But it still changes _

_ Ever so slightly,  _

_ Daily and nightly _

_ In little ways _

_ When everything stays” _

From behind him he could hear a young voice excitedly whisper, “Bucky sang Adventure Time!” Right, that was the name of the show, he remembered the Runaways talking about it, getting into deep discussions about the show. It was cute, how serious they were about things such as that, as though they hadn’t been homeless and on the run. Bucky glanced from where the voice had come from, locking eyes with a small black girl with her curly hair in two little pom-pom buns. He smiled the little girl before sticking his tongue out at her. The little girl stuck her tongue out right back before gasping and covering her mouth. Bucky only laughed, turning back to finish painting his sisters nails, singing a little more. 

“I love you.” Bucky said as he stood back up, hugging Becca’s shoulders. 

After a few minutes of silently sitting with his siblings, indulging Bea in a dance or two while singing again, Bucky went around, introducing himself to the Barnes family. It was odd, having men and women older than Bucky calling him Uncle Bucky, calling his sisters, who to Bucky had only been a young woman and teenagers just years before, their mothers. Most of the grandchildren were closer to Bucky’s age, speaking to him as a peer, though still very awkwardly. 

The little girl he had smiled at earlier was five year old Charlize Proctor, Becca’s great-granddaughter. The moment he arrived at her table, she had hid underneath the table, away from him. He had been talking to her father and his brother for a bit, before focusing his attention on her. He knocked on the tablecloth, “May I enter Charlize?” 

“What’s the password?” The little girl asked. 

Bucky pretended to think for a second. “Hmmm… is it Bucky Barnes is the most handsome, dandy man in all of Brooklyn?” 

That earned him some giggles. “No!” 

“How about-” he made eye contact with Steve, who was still sitting with his sisters, that man Bucky sort of remembered from DC glaring over at him, “Captain America?” 

“Yeah!” The girl said eagerly, letting him slide under the table with her. Immediately, she asked, “Can you paint my nails like you- like with Mama Beccs?” 

“Of course! Would you like to accompany me with a few more tables before I do?” He asked, smiling at her. Charlize nodded excitedly. Bucky emerged from under the table, earning laughter when practically the whole room watched him hit his noggin against the damn table. Bucky indiscreetly flipped the bird at Steve, sensing the man’s barely contained laughter. Feeling warm, Bucky gave a small sigh, shedding his jacket, his left arm on full display.

“Wow! That’s so cool!” Charlize grinned up at him before he could begin to feel self conscious, very nearly climbing his leg to get a better view of it. Bucky picked her up in his arms, letting her poke at his arm and ask questions as he finished talking to the whole room, making his way back to the front table. He had just grabbed the bottle of nail polish, setting Charlize in his lap, when he noticed another older woman at the table he seemed to have ignored before. Her tight curls were dyed a bright pink, her lips an equally bright yellow, she may have been around eighty years old. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t say hello to you.” Bucky smiled apologetically, holding out his hand. 

The woman had a surprisingly tight grip. “I’ve heard so much about you, James. I’m Jeanie. I’m-” She shared a look with Betty, who grabbed her hand. 

Betty’s eyes and voice were wet when she said, “Jeanie is my wife.” 

Bucky blinked in shock before a grin split his face. “Oh gee, oh wow. It’s so nice to meet you, wow. Betty- I- I had no idea you were? Oh this is just- copacetic, huh? I thought I was the only gay one in this family, holy shit Betty.”

His sister blinked at him in surprise. Steve grinned, leaning forward as he said, “See Betty, told you Bucky wouldn’t be mad at you.” Betty waved a hand at him, shushing him up. Bucky just grinned at her as he painted little Charlize’s nails.

All around him was his family. 

 

Bucky was not whole again. He may never be whole again. He was still a twisted mesh of a man he once was, but he was better, he felt good and happy and anew. He still had his worries- the anxieties that kept him up at night, his upcoming trial (though everyone was so very certain that it was only for show, that only wild Republican men seemed to think he was some sort of American threat as though not years ago they stood behind men who were in allegiance with HYDRA), if his sisters illness was fatal. He still woke up, fear emerging through every corner of his mind, though he had Steve and that ashole boyfriend of his to help talk his through it all. He was texting the Runaways everyday, making sure they were doing well as their lives were finally getting settled back to reality. 

Bucky was made of warped glass and metal, but he was also made of flesh, slowly being pieced together with the bonding glue, from the love and support of those around him, helping to mend what had been broken so, very horrifically by men of terrible minds. 

His fingers, his nails painted a light blue, traced the metal arm attached to him. The blue next to the red star sort of looked like the Steve’s damn shield… huh, wouldn’t that be funny?

 

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this baby!! I actually think I will write more for this, since I cannot stop thinking about Bucky's sisters and even wrote a timeline of sorts on when they had children, when Betty learned she was a lesbian, how they were affected by their brothers death, etc. 
> 
> Gosh I have so many feelings but I'm sure you've read enough so I will leave you here!
> 
> I really hope ya'll enjoyed this fic, please love a comment, kudos, come talk to me @kamalashrinks on tumblr (or @rainbowjasons either is fine)!!


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